


Violate

by violetharmon



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, violate - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetharmon/pseuds/violetharmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some Violate drabble and cute scenes... Maybe a few sexual/intimate scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Another Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Violet's death but at times when they are completely at peace with eachother, not thinking about all the horrific things they have both had to go through.
> 
> I will be adding different scenes as much as I can. Don't expect a story line with this...

**1\. Just Another Morning**

"Good morning," Tate said to Violet groggily. Just because Tate and Violet were dead didn't mean they didn't need rest. Tate's hair was messy and smelt of sweat- not bad, stinky sweat but the sweet smelling kind of sweat. Violet pushed her head into his big mop of hair and wrapped her arms around his. He had a green and blue flannel shirt on but all the buttons were undone so that she could feel his stomach. One thing that Violet loved about Tate was how he didn’t at all look perfect. He didn’t have a six pack nor did he have particularly chiselled features. He was just a cuddly boy. Tate moved his head around so his lips touched Violet’s and they kissed for a little while.  
  
Tate loved Violet’s hair when she woke up. He also loved the smell of her breathe and the way her eyes didn’t quite focus on what she was looking at because she wasn’t fully awake. Tate just loved her. She was so beautiful and all Tate wanted to do was tell anyone who would listen about how soft Violet’s skin was on his hands when he stroked her face. Or how she had light freckles on her nose that you could only see when you were right up close to her. Tate was up close to Violet a lot.  
Kissing Violet made Tate feel like he had a reason to be alive. Well not exactly alive… Tate knew he would never be able to live again. He wouldn’t want to anyway, he knew how dangerous he was to the outside world. So scratch that- kissing Violet didn’t make Tate feel like he had a reason to live again but it made him feel relevant. Valid. The only way that Tate could describe the feeling of Violet’s lips on his was that it felt almost euphoric. It made him feel a similar way to when the chorus to Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana came on and he felt like jumping and singing. Like letting all of his negative feelings and anger out until he was emptied out of sadness. That was Tate’s favourite feeling.  
  
Violet shut her eyes and let Tate feel her whole body. She let him take it all in. Being with Tate was like taking a stroll down a waterfall. She prepared herself for an adrenaline rush but as soon as he touched her she felt herself fall. It wasn’t a bad type of falling. Not a painful type of falling. More of a free type of falling. The only time that Violet could fully let herself go was when she was with Tate. Her sweet, handsome Tate.  
‘Can I take your shirt off?’ Asked Tate, shyly . He was breathing heavily and his cheeks were red. His cheeks were only that rosy when he was with Violet.  
“You want to have morning sex?” Violet remarked, her lips still half pressed against his.  
“Why not? It’s not like we have to be anywhere.”  
“Tate.” Violet looked into his eyes. His eyes were a black, stormy ocean. “Tate, my parents are home. They still think that I’m alive, remember? I should shower and at least pretend to act like a normal, living human being.”  
“Can I at least shower with you?” Tate mock asked, smirking.  
“Fine.” Violet replied laughing and she dragged him towards the bathroom.


	2. The Breakfast Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tate has a bad dream.

2\. The Breakfast Club

Violet was starting to get tired. Her and Tate were watching The Breakfast Club. It was the only movie that Tate and Violet could ever agree on to watch. Violet usually preferred movies that were insightful and metaphoric whilst Tate much preferred movies about death and destruction, usually from the 80’s or 90’s era. But they both loved The Breakfast Club. As the credits rolled down the screen as John Bender had his fist in the air. Violet looked to her side to see if Tate was awake. Of course he wasn’t, he always fell asleep when watching movies. Violet doubted that Tate even knew the ending to The Breakfast Club despite the many times that they have watched it.  
“Tate,” Violet whispered whilst lightly slapping his face, “Tate, wakeup.” She didn’t know why she wanted him to wakeup, he looked so beautiful when his eyes were shut and his face was resting. He looked peaceful. Maybe she wanted him to be awake was because she was still scared of the spirits in her house, even though she was one. She proceeded to shake his shoulders. He still wouldn't wake up. She looked at the time on her digital clock that was sitting on her bedside table. It was 5:46 am. They had almost pulled an all-nighter. Well, they had managed to keep themselves entertained. They ate a whole lot of chocolate ice cream (Violet’s favourite) and listened to every song by Morrisey that ever existed. Violet studied Tate’s features. He had quite a big nose and pink, pouty lips. His eyelashes were long and thick. His skin was smooth. His cheeks were chubby. How lucky Violet was that she had him. She had Tate all to herself.

Tate woke up with a violent jolt. He had had such a bad nightmare. He dreamt he was back in 1994 when all the incidents happened. Tate hated when he had to re-live those awful memories. He could almost feel the pain of the multiple bullets that cascaded through his chest all over again. Sweat trickled down his face. He had goosebumps all over his arms and legs. Violet was quick to comfort him. She grabbed his hand and pulled it towards her heart. That always calmed Tate down. Violet pulled Tate into a warm embrace and they stated hugging for a few minutes. Just acknowledging that they were both with each other. They were safe- well, as safe as you ever could be in the Murder House.

“What happened?” Violet whispered.  
“I just had another bad dream, no big deal.” Said Tate.  
“Was is another one of the dreams?  
“Yes it was, Violet but I’d rather not talk about it. thinking about it just makes me realise how much of a bad, bad person I am. All that I ever want to do is prove to myself that I’m not like that anymore but the memories always tell me different. I just want to die- not this half death I’m living. I want to fully die and not have to remember all the awful things that I did back when I was bad”  
Violet looked at Tate for a while. She looked like she was trying to think of something to say that would truly make Tate feel better. Tate knew nothing would make him feel better. He would carry this burden for the rest of eternity. After about five minutes of Violet thinking she just pulled Tate on top of her.  
“What would make you forget the dream?” Violet asked, as she stared at Tate with her big, hazel eyes.  
“You know nothing will, Violet.”  
“But what would make you forget about it just for the night?”   
“Well… I can think of one thing that may do the trick.”  
“So can I.” Violet kissed Tate and they kept on kissing until they felt it was necessary to start taking off their clothes. They got under the covers and what happened next really did the trick of making him forget his dream.


End file.
